Somewhere in the Stars Above
by altenprano
Summary: Seren Turadh is a courier for the Rebel Alliance, tasked with taking messages to Rebel bases throughout the galaxy, a job mundane and insignificant compared to what her fellow pilots engage in almost daily. She knows she was meant for more than simple courier missions, but it takes more than a clash with a TIE fighter to prove that she is ready, and even then there is doubt.
1. White Five

"Base, this is White Five. Come in Base."

There was a moment of silence, then some static, before a reply came over the comm system.

"White Five this is Base. What can I do for you?"

The voice on the other end was familiar to the pilot; she smiled as she guided her X-wing starfighter in a wide arc and fought the urge to drop the formalities of call signs. _Save it for when you're on the ground_ , she thought, checking the scanners. All clear, nothing to worry about.

"Requesting clearance to land."

Another pause.

Base was clearing it with the others who would be in the communications room, checking the scanners and making sure there was a landing bay open for her to set down in.

"Clearance granted, White Five. You are good to go. Bring her in."

The pilot nodded. "Copy that. Thank you Base."

"We'll see you on the ground, White Five."

"On the ground, Base. White Five out."

The comm system shut off.

It was just her and the darkened cockpit of the X-wing fighter now, as the pilot adjusted her craft for landing. She began her steady descent, partially aware of her droid copilot, an old astromech droid, serial number R2-16, trilling as he rattled off her decreasing altitude and proximity to her destination. She didn't pay attention; she knew where she was going, having made this run countless times in the nine months since she was assigned as a courier at the Rebel outpost on the mid-Rim planet of Ælba. R2-16 was just doing it because it was part of the routine, just like the pilot's conversation with Base had been—nothing unusual.

And then the litany of numbers stopped, followed by a brief silence before her R2's trills became shrieks.

The pilot checked the scanners and swore under her breath. "Damn," she muttered, and switched the comm back on. "Base, this is White Five. Come in Base."

"Is everything alright up there, White Five?"

 _Check your bleeding scanners_ , she thought, biting her lip. _Does everything look alright?_ "I've got a lone TIE on my tail," she said, adjusting her course away from the Rebel base.

"Lead him away from base, White Five."

"Copy that Base. Do you want me to engage?"

As a courier, she'd never had any need to engage with an enemy ship before now.

"Negative." There was a pause—Base was conferring with the others again. "White Five, we are sending Green Two and Green Three to assist you. Continue heading west and they'll be in to assist."

"Copy that and thank you Base."

"Anytime White Five." The pilot could hear the smile in Base's voice, almost flirtatious. "White Five, you are requested to stay on-comm until you are safely landed."

"Copy."

The pilot swung her X-wing in a wide arc, headed towards the hilly western coast of Ælba's largest continent. She would stick to the coastline and head north, which was dominated by a mountain range that ran east to west across the northern part of the continent. It was the ideal place to lose enemy troops—hard to navigate even with a map and treacherous to maneuver unless you really knew the mountains.

She checked her scanners. The TIE was hot on her heels now, maneuvering like it was about to take a shot.

 _Better not make it easy for them then_ , the pilot thought as she cut a hard left into a bank of clouds, then gave her fighter a little speed before easing up and bursting out into a patch of open sky again.

When she checked, the TIE was nowhere on her scanners.

"Base this is White Five."

"Copy that White Five."

"I've lost the enemy fighter."

"Come again White Five?"

The pilot took a deep breath, steadying herself. She checked the scanners—still nothing, but that didn't make her drop her guard. "The enemy fighter is no longer on my scanners," she said. "I suspect some kind of cloaking device, but I am not sure."

"Copy that White Five. Green Two and Green Three are on their way to your position, and should be with you shortly."

She glanced at her scanners again. Still no sign of the TIE fighter, but she saw the two blips that she recognized as Green Two and Green Three—not really, but the display said they were friendly ships.

"I have them on my scanners, Base," she said.

"Still no sign of the TIE?"

"Negative."

She doubted that she'd lost the Imperial starfighter in the cloudbank. It hadn't been that brilliant of a maneuver, and they were just clouds, after all.

"White Five this is Green Two, do you copy?"

"Green Two, this is White Five. I do copy."

"White Five, this is Green Three, do you copy?"

The pilot nodded, though there was no one to see her do so. "Green Three, this is White Five. I do copy."

"Green Two, this is Base. Any sign of the enemy craft on your scanners?"

"Negative."

"Green Three?"

"Negative as well Base."

"Well isn't this brilliant." Base let out an exasperated sigh. "White Five, continue up the coast a hundred meters. Green Three, fall back and flank left. Green Two, fall back and flank right."

"Copy that Base." The pilot set her gaze ahead of her and brought her fighter so it flew between the tips of the smaller mountains—the Foothills, they were called—and the clouds.

"Copy."

"Copy."

"Right then. White Five, it would seem your friend is back on our scanners."

She checked and saw that Base was right. The blip that was the TIE fighter was a little ways behind Green Three and Green Two, angling towards Green Two on the right. "Yes he is."

"Green Two, he's favoring your side. Can you and Green Three fall back more and get him from behind?"

"Certainly," came Green Three's reply over the comm.

"On my count. One. Two. Three. Fall back!"

The pilot kept her position and speed, only faltering when the TIE fighter fired and startled her into wavering off her straight course. "Base this is White Five. I've been fired at, but no serious damage sustained."

"Hang in there White Five. Green Two and Green Three are locking in on their target."

"Base, this is Green Two. We've got our target."

"Fire."

"Copy that."

There was hardly time for the pilot to blink before she heard the TIE fighter being hit with two well-aimed blasts—one for each of its ion engines—and out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of light as the damaged engines caught fire and sent the enemy ship into the cold, viciously choppy waters below.

"Base, this is Green Three. The enemy ship has been disabled."

"Well done you two. Bring White Five home now. I think she's had enough excitement for one day."

"Copy that Base."


	2. Hangar Reception

When Seren Turadh, call sign White Five, inspected the damage done to her X-wing by the TIE fighter (now sat at the bottom of Ælba's northern sea, courtesy of Green Two and Green Three), she was glad to find that it was nothing major. Just a scratch really, so the mechanics and repair droids wouldn't take too long with it.

 _Good thing too_ , she thought, pinching the bridge of her nose to relieve the headache that had come on. _In all likelihood you'll be out with another message before you've had time to rest._

Such was the life of a courier.

She was always going somewhere to deliver some communiqué or package that was too important to risk transmitting through space, where the Empire could easily intercept it. Very rarely did she have the time to relax like the others stationed on Ælba did, but she couldn't complain. There were other couriers stationed on Ælba who came and went in much the same fashion as she, though their detail was, in most cases, the Outer Rim, where the Empire's grip was weakest and the space pirates thrived as a result. Seren pitied them a little for that, but she knew they could manage it. They wouldn't be given the detail if General Ruadh, the officer in charge of the Alliance's Ælba base, didn't think they were capable for the job.

"Hey, if it isn't Silver, home at last." Brendan Harper, whose voice had talked her through here landing and the skirmish with the TIE fighter just then, ran over to where Seren stood, only pretending to inspect the damage done to her X-wing and clapped her on the back. "Y'aren't to shaken, I hope?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Stop calling me that," she protested, suppressing a laugh. "You know I don't like it!"

"Aw come on, have a bit of fun, won't you?" He grinned. "How was your trip to Selonia?"

"Uneventful, except for the end, but you were there for that." Seren glanced over to where Green Two and Green Three had landed and were now checking their X-wings over as well. "Thanks by the way."

"Don't thank me, you know that," Brendan said. "General Ruadh made the call."

"Well I'll thank him then."

"You're too much sometimes, Silver."

"Seren," she corrected, patting R2-16 on his dome, congratulating him for his work.

"Couriers can have nicknames too, you know," Brendan pointed out, giving R2-16 a pat on the dome too. "Good job little guy, getting our girl home safe."

Seren saw Becca Faodail, call sign Green Two, heading their way, her helmet tucked under her arm and her flight suit partially unzipped.

"You're insufferable, Brendan Harper, I hope you know that," Becca said as soon as she was within earshot, quickening her pace to come and jab Brendan in the chest with a finger.

Brendan held his hands up in surrender. "I don't know what I did."

Becca narrowed her gaze at him. "Oh stop with that nonsense," she said, then, noticing Seren, her expression brightened and she went to embrace her friend. "Seren, it's good to see you."

Seren returned the embrace, which was made awkward by the fact that both of them were still in their flight suits. "Good to see you too," she said. "Nice job back there."

"No problem. Just doing my job, protecting the Rebellion's couriers and taking out the bad guys."

Seren laughed. "Well you do a fine job with it," she said. "I am here in one piece and there's a TIE fighter at the bottom of the Northern Sea, so I say job well done."

"Job well done indeed," Brendan chimed in, offering each of the pilots a congratulatory pat on the back. "Maybe we can, after Silver's passed along her message and gotten herself checked over by Dr. Rhys."

"I don't need to see Dr. Rhys, Brendan."

"General's orders," he said flatly. "You're welcome to take it up with him, when you deliver your message."

Seren pressed her lips together in a tight, defiant line. "Fine. I will."

"You'll lose."

"You don't know that," Seren said, and with that, she headed towards the command center, where she was sure to find General Ruadh.

* * *

"She's going to lose," Brendan muttered as he watched Seren go. "No one wins an argument with General Ruadh."

Becca nodded. "But give her a chance," she said. "We all gave you a chance, didn't we?"

"You did."

"Though you're still insufferable."

"I get the job done, don't I?"

"That you do."

"So I can't be that bad, can I?"

Becca shook her head. "I don't suppose you can," she said, pressing her lips together. "I ought to go get cleaned up some, seeing as my bunkmate's back now."

Brendan laughed. "Be seeing you then."

"You too." Becca glanced down at R2-16. "Come with me now, and we'll get you cleaned up too, maybe fix your paint some as well."

* * *

General Ruadh was the commanding officer for all Alliance bases in the Selts system, which included his homeworld of Hibern. He was a human male in his early forties who stood a neat two meters high and was therefore able to see all that transpired in the command center of his base on Ælba.

His _aide de camp_ was a young woman from Hibern's sister planet, Airlan. Her name was Aisli Greys, though General Ruadh always called her by "Miss Greys," and she called him by "General Ruadh," the same as everyone else at the base.

"Seren Turadh is on her way sir," Miss Greys informed the general.

The general nodded. "Thank you Miss Greys."

"Of course sir." The young woman gave him a half-bow and turned to leave before he could correct her.

In the Rebel Alliance, there were none of the formalities observed in the days of the Republic, or even in the current age, where the Empire ran a tight ship with their military. Ranks were still important, yes, but there was none of that bowing and scraping business, which, despite his military career, General Ruadh had a strong dislike for. It was hardly a career in the first place; the rank of general had been given to him because he knew the terrain and the people of the Selts system, where his father had been a Senator during the days of the Old Republic, and Ruadh knew a thing or two about how to stave off the Empire. He was no more of a soldier than any of the men and women stationed here, but Mon Mothma, Admiral Ackbar (a true Admiral), and the late Senator Organa of Alderaan all thought it best to appoint him as the leader of the Selts system.

"Seren Turadh, reporting sir."

Ruadh turned his attention to the courier, one Seren Turadh.

She was an interesting one, Turadh.

When she had first arrived on Ælba nine months ago, Ruadh had admittedly been curious of Turadh's placement in their ranks as a courier. Perhaps it was her age, for the girl was barely seventeen when he'd received word that she would be stationed on Ælba, because it definitely wasn't her capabilities in the cockpit of an X-wing. It was her Corellian upbringing, he told himself the first time he reviewed her simulator results, and, if she were any older, he would request that she be transferred to a fighter squadron—Rouge Squadron, even.

But, given the current situation in the Outer Rim, as well as the momentum that the war effort in the mid-Rim was gathering and the work that still needed to be done in the Core Worlds, such a transfer would have to wait. Perhaps General Ruadh would find a way for Turadh to prove herself worthy of such a promotion.

 _Or perhaps she'll take it upon herself_ , he mused, dismissing Miss Greys with a quick nod. _Corellians always seem to find a way into trouble and then out again._

"You retrieved the message?" he asked, breaking what was really only half a minute of silence between them.

She nodded. "I did sir." Her hand went into the breast pocket of her flight suit and when she withdrew it, General Ruadh was pleased to see that the data-piece was there. She offered it to him. "Captain Rish said to send her congratulations."

General Ruadh smiled. "How thoughtful of her," he said. "Thank you, Turadh. You may go. Report to Dr. Rhys in the medbay please."

"Sir?"

The smile was gone, replaced with his usual look of firm neutrality. "Yes, Turadh?"

The young woman bit the inside of her lip, then released it and lifted her chin, trying to give an air of confidence. What was she about to ask, if she was putting on such a display of confidence? "Sir, must I report to Dr. Rhys?"

She sounded like a child, the way she asked, but General Ruadh refused to indulge her. "Yes, Turadh, you must."

"But sir, I sustained no injuries on my trip."

"That may be so, but Dr. Rhys has requested that you see her in the medbay upon your return."

"Did she say why, sir?"

Ruadh shook his head. "She did not, but I advise that you obey Dr. Rhys's request. It could very well be important that you do."

Turadh's dark eyes flashed with defiance—Corellians all seemed to have that same streak, Ruadh found—but she lowered her gaze and nodded her assent. "Yes sir," she said, her voice even. "Shall I report to you when I'm done?"

Ruadh shook his head. "I'll notify Dr. Rhys if I need you, Turadh."

"Yes sir."

"Good. You're dismissed."


	3. Medbay

Seren left the command and communications center and headed for the medbay, where she found Dr. Rhys inputting data on the datapad that accompanied her everywhere.

"I hear your mission went well, Seren," the older woman said without looking up from her datapad.  
Seren nodded. "It did, yeah."

"And your little skirmish with the Imperial fighter at the end was impressive."

"Becca and Green Three did the heavy lifting there, ma'am."

"But you kept a level head and didn't lead the TIE towards our base." Rhys set her datapad down and turned her attention to Seren. "If you could get out of your flight suit and have a seat, Seren, I would be much obliged," she said, and indicated towards the examination table where she usually saw her patients.

Seren did as she was told and stripped down to the long-sleeved undershirt and leggings that every X-wing pilot wore beneath their flight suit. She folded the discarded flight suit haphazardly and set it aside before seating herself on the examination table. "All due respect, Dr. Rhys, I'm perfectly fine. I sustained no injuries on my mission."

"Usually when someone says something "with all due respect," Seren, they don't really mean it." Dr. Rhys picked up her datapad once more, and typed something into it—Seren couldn't see what exactly. "And I know that you're fine. I was just a bit concerned…"

"Concerned about what, Dr. Rhys?"

The older woman gave Seren a tight smile and set her datapad aside again. "You, Seren, and the others here." The tightness of her smile seemed to fade into a wistful sadness before she turned away, allowing the time for her to compose herself. "Shall we get on then?"

"If you must."

In the nine months that she had known Dr. Rhys, Seren had learned one important thing about the woman who served as the head of medical staff on Ælba, and that was how Dr. Rhys saw the pilots and command staff whom she served. To the older woman, each pilot—regardless of whether they were fighters or couriers—and every member of the command staff was in her care. If anything happened to them, it became her responsibility to amend that to the best of her ability.

 _Do no harm,_ she always preached to the two nurses and two medics who she had been put in charge of when she came here, and indeed, she never did any harm, nor did she entrust her work to droids if it was possible.

Dr. Rhys was a strange woman, Seren remembered thinking after her first major accident, which wasn't that major compared to some of the injuries she saw fighter pilots coming back with, but for a courier who never really saw combat, it was enough to be considered major.

The doctor had attended Seren's injuries with the intense concern of a parent, not the detached, this-is-my-obligation-as-a-practitioner-of-medicine concern of the doctors she had known during her brief time with the Corellian detachment of the Rebel Alliance. No, Dr. Rhys was very different from that, very, very different.

When Seren asked Becca and Brendan why, the two had just shrugged and said something about Dr. Rhys having children before they moved the conversation away from the topic.

"You're clear to report to command," Dr. Rhys told Seren once she was finished with her examination. "I advise that you take a shower first though. You still smell a bit like fish and wet fur."

Heat rushed to Seren's cheeks. "I will," she said, gathering up her flight suit. "Thank you."

Dr. Rhys smiled. "Of course. Would you send Troilus Eckard here, please? He's overdue for his routine evaluation and really shouldn't've gone out to meet you, but I can't override General Ruadh, you know?"

"I will if I see him," Seren told the doctor. "Can think of where I'd find him though."

"Your friend Becca might know. Ask her."


	4. Midnight Mission

The Selts system was located in the mid-Rim region of the galaxy, just outside the Chommell sector. It was as system of five Terrestrial-class planets of varying size with breathable atmospheres and Standard gravity, all orbiting one star—Selt.

The largest planet in the system was Hibern, followed by its twin Airlan, then came Ælba and Cymbri, and, smallest of all was Ellan.

According to legend, the planets in the Selts system had been the moons of a much larger planet in its own system, but some great destabilizing force had plucked the five planets from their orbits and placed them around the star Selt. The "destabilizing force" had different names, depending on who was being asked. Some said it was an electromagnetic shift in the mid-Rim, while others said it was magic that had liberated the five planets from their original system.

The inhabitants of the Selts system were for the most part humans, with Twi'leks, Bith, and Sullustans thrown in the mix, and not much else. As far as politics went, the allegiance of the Selts system was currently to the Rebel Alliance, though the Minister of Hibern had made it clear that the Alliance was only allowed to maintain bases in the system as long as they did not endanger the people of the Selts system.

There were other terms of course, but Seren had always found this one the most perplexing, and as she made her way to the command center, she wondered if her encounter with the TIE fighter would count as a violation of those terms.

 _No civilians were put in danger_ , she told herself as she navigated the dimly-lit corridors of the base. After dinner in the mess hall, the lights were cut by half to conserve energy, as well as to dampen the energy signal of the base—it didn't bother Seren anymore. _You did not violate the terms of agreement._

If she didn't accidentally violate the terms of agreement that General Ruadh and the Rebel Alliance had agreed upon with the Ministers of the Selts system, then why was Seren being called to command at this hour? She tried to think of all the things she had (or rather, hadn't) done to get her in trouble or raise concern, but couldn't come up with anything.

She passed the hangar, where the entire fleet of the Rebel Alliance on Ælba was kept, X-wings and C-wings and the odd freighter arranged as if by a child in careful rows. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the plasti-glass window and hoped that General Ruadh wouldn't mind her disorderly appearance. He had, after all, sent for her in the middle of the night after she'd just gotten back from a mission—he should be glad she came, instead of staying in bed, which she was full prepared to do without any regard for the consequences.

Once she arrived at the command and communications center of the base, Seren had to find General Ruadh on her own, seeing as his aide—Aisli—was otherwise occupied with her datapad.

It wasn't hard to find the six-feet-tall general in a room where the command officers present were seated at monitors, and when she did find him, Seren went right up to him.

"You asked to see me, sir?" she said, though what she wanted to do was ask him why he'd wake her up at this hour.

"Yes, I did." He looked at her the way he always did, his dark grey eyes appraising her before meeting her own. "I know you just got back, but I need you to take another message for me."

Of course that's what he needed. Never mind her getting rest—the Rebellion was more important than a few extra hours of sleep, wasn't it?

"Where to?"

"Hibern."

"Can it wait until the morning?"

General Ruadh shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Turadh," he said. "You must go as soon as you're able."

"May I ask why, sir?"

There was a pause.

Among the Rebellion's couriers—among any group of couriers, really—was one unspoken rule: never ask why. Urgent messages were urgent and that was the end of it; it was rude to ask why, and dangerous besides.

 _Two rules of being a courier_ , her first boss, a gruff, male Selonian whose name Seren forgot, had told her when she started out as a courier back home on Corellia. _The first—never look at the message. Privacy is the chief virtue of courier-work. Second—never ask why. Even if the message takes you to the next system over or is "urgent," you do not ask why._

"Minister Deval can tell you," came the general's reply. "I have neither the time nor enough information to answer that question."

"Of course sir."

"Good." General Ruadh produced a cylindrical data-piece and held it so Seren could see it. He then pocketed it once more. "How soon can you leave?"

Seren pressed her lips together. "Ten, fifteen minutes?" she said. "Sir, after what happened earlier today, may I take Green Two as backup?"

"If you must. Wake her and report to the hangar in fifteen minutes, am I understood?"

She nodded. "Yes sir."

* * *

"Base, this is Green Two. We are good to go."

The sound of Becca's voice over the comm system helped Seren quiet her nerves. She was always nervous before a mission, and this one was no exception. Being exhausted from her last trip did little to help this matter.

"Green Two, this is Base. You are cleared to go."

Brendan was still asleep—the lucky devil—and a different communications officer was calling for Base.

"Base, this is White Five, am I clear to go?"

"White Five this is Base, you are clear to go."

And like that, Becca and Seren flew out of the hangar, headed towards the largest planet in the Ælba system and its green hills that were populated by mountain nerfs and a species of nerf that Seren had no name for. Becca had voted to call them "cloud-nerfs" because they looked like they wore great wooly clouds on their hide, and neither Becca nor Seren thought to ask anyone, for fear of appearing unintelligent (which they most certainly were not).


	5. Cliath

Becca and Seren touched down at the docks just outside of Cliath, the administrative capital of Hibern, located on the second largest of the planet's three continents.

 _So far so good_ , thought Seren as she followed the guide-speeders into a landing bay where there appeared to be an escort waiting for her and Becca, who was following Seren. There hadn't been any trouble on the trip over to Hibern from the base on Ælba—there rarely was, especially in this system—and ground control at Cliath was good at their job, which made coming in all the more easy.

"Not like trying to land at Coronet, is it?" Becca asked over the comm system as she touched down beside her friend.

Seren couldn't help but laugh. "Not at all," said she, turning off the thrusters and engines of her X-wing once she was safely on the ground. "But in Coronet's defense, it's on a planet that's a major stop on two integral trade routes. This…" _Is pretty much the middle of mid-Rim nowhere_ "…isn't."

"Whatever you say," came Becca's reply, and Seren saw the silhouette of her friend as she made sure that everything was off before she unclipped herself from the harness and prepared to disembark. "Let's see what's going on, shall we?"

Seren nodded, unclipped her harness, and opened the hatch in preparation to disembark. She saw that the ground crew was already giving her fighter a once-over, but she took the time to do one of her own.

You could never be too careful, even if the flight was as easy as this one had been. There was always room for something to go amiss, and Seren wanted to at least be the one to catch it if there was.

Satisfied, Seren strode over to where Becca had landed, hardly a hundred feet off, with R2-16 close behind. When there were only about ten yards between the two pilots, however, the green-and-chrome astromech droid zipped on ahead to greet Becca with a series of excited trills.

"Hello again, little guy," Becca cooed, rubbing R2-16's dome, as one might rub the head of a favorite pet. She glanced up at Seren. "You ready?"

"Of course," came Seren's reply, and she pulled off her helmet, which allowed the dark braid that she kept coiled up inside to fall down her back. "General Ruadh said there'd be an escort to take us to the Ministerial House when we arrived."

Becca removed her helmet as well and tucked it under her arm. "Is that them over there?" she asked, gesturing with her shoulder towards a cluster of three or four individuals near a speeder that appeared to have some sort of seal on its side.

"I think so." Seren turned to start heading towards the speeder. "Come on R2-16. Becca's coming with us, but I want you up here, alright?"

R2-16 let out a disappointed trill, but came to Seren's side nonetheless.

"Atta boy," Seren murmured, giving his dome a quick pat. "She spoils you, I know she does."

"Do not," Becca protested, catching up to Seren and R2-16. "He needs the paint redone, by the way. It's flaking."

"I'll see if we can do it before my next mission."

"I can get it done."

"Don't you have patrols and stuff like that in the meantime?"

Becca pursed her lips. "You can take my spot," she said. "I'm sure General Ruadh wouldn't mind."

"Och, maybe later." They were nearing the escort, which Seren noted was comprised of two humans—one male, one female—and a green-skinned Twi'lek female, and there was no reason for them to be seen acting anything less than polite in the presence of the Hibernian citizens who had been sent to meet them.

"Are you Seren Turadh?" asked the human female once the two pilots and the astromech droid reached where she stood with the rest of her party.

Seren took a step forward and nodded. "I am," said she. "And this is Becca Faodail, of Green Squadron."

The woman acknowledged both pilots with a small bow. "I am Fionola Breifne, a representative of the Mhí Province," she told them. "My colleagues and I are to escort you to the Ministerial House, where you will meet with Minister Deval. You have a message for him from your general?"

"Yes ma'am," Seren said, unsure as to how one addressed a representative of Hibern's provinces (of which, she understood, there were twenty-six). "Is it urgent?"

Fionola pressed her lips together. "I am afraid so, Miss Turadh. Now, if you would follow me this way, I will take you to Minister Deval, who will hopefully be able to shed some light on the situation, if you'll pardon the triteness of my phrase."

The Ministerial House was located in the center of Cliath, a few blocks from the other government buildings, in what Fionola told Becca and Seren was the district known was the "Historic Heart."

"Every building in this district has been standing since we became an independent system," the fair-haired representative explained as she led the two Rebellion pilots down the hall to Minister Deval's emergency audience chamber. "If we weren't so pressed for time, I would gladly take you on a tour when the Minister is done with you."

Becca nodded. "Perhaps some other time then," she said. "We'll be pressed to return to the base, I think."

Fionola looked a little crestfallen. "Yes, of course," she said, stopping in front of a door. "We're here."

Both Becca and Seren nodded, while R2-16 beeped impatiently and tried to sidle past the two pilots.

"Hang in there bud," Becca said, sidestepping to cut the droid off.

The doors opened, and Fionola led them inside, where a lone human male waited behind a desk.

He was clearly very tall—even sitting down, Seren could tell this—with thin lips set in a tight smirk, as if the arrival of Fionola and the two pilots displeased him already. His dark hair parted off to the side, with the same precision as General Ruadh's was, and his nose was what Seren could only describe as beakish.

Fionola stopped before his desk. "Minister Deval, may I present Seren Turadh and Becca Faodail."

"Thank you, Representative Breifne," he said, rising from his seat and proving that he was indeed, tall—taller than General Ruadh's six feet. "You may go."

Fionola nodded and left.

Once the woman was gone, Deval's attention went straight to Seren. "Do you have a message for me?" he asked.

Seren reached into the pocket of her flight suit and retrieved the data-piece that General Ruadh had given to her before she'd left the base on Ælba. She offered it to Hibern's Minister. "Here, sir."

Minister Deval took the data-piece and set it on his desk. "Are you the courier who was chased by the TIE fighter on Ælba earlier?"

Word travels fast, Seren thought as she nodded. "I am sir."

He considered Seren for a moment, as if he were thinking about reprimanding her for bringing the Imperial fighter into the otherwise peaceful system (which she hadn't done). "Did you know, Miss Turadh, how many Imperial ships have entered this system since the rise of the Galactic Empire?"

"No sir."

"Let me tell you then." He clasped his hands behind his back, glanced at Becca, and then turned his attention back to Seren. "None—until today, that is."

"I'm sorry sir. It must've followed me from Imperial space."

"Miss Turadh, since the Clone Wars, the Selts system has existed in peace. True, we have willingly played host to the forces of the Old Republic and now, the Rebel Alliance, but on the grounds that our citizens remained out of danger in times of war. What happened today over Ælba's Northern Sea is perhaps a sign that our days of peace in this system are over."

"I'm not sure where you're going with this, Minister," Becca said. "Can't you only speak for Hibern, and not the whole system?"

"Miss Faodail, as Minister for Hibern, I represent my planet in the Selts Parliament, and, when necessary, in the Galactic Senate. It is only by a majority vote in the Selts Parliament that any system-wide decisions can be made."

"I see."

Minister Deval cast a cold glance in her direction before continuing. "It will be some time before the Selts Parliament can meet and decide whether we as a system should put the manpower and industry into picking any particular side," he said. "War is a tricky thing, and I don't expect ones such as yourselves to understand the importance of each move. Even those such as Princess Leia Organa, they do not understand what is at stake here."

"The freedom of the galaxy is at stake," Seren said, recalling the stories her father used to tell her, about the time long ago when the galaxy was governed by the Senate of the Old Republic and order was defended by a strange order of men and women from all corners of the galaxy who called themselves the Jedi.

According to her father, the order that once was crumbled when the Jedi were killed, and Seren believed it. On Corellia, especially in the packed slums of Coronet and crowded shipyards, corruption and exploitation flourished like mold on a broken-down moisture generator. Farmers in the rural parts of the planet struggled to get by as only farms supported by the Empire profited, and any good men and women were kept from positions that might benefit the planetary government by—once more—the Empire.

It was all the Empire's fault, Seren remembered thinking when a cousin of hers was shot down by an Imperial patrol in the city, simply because he had been tutoring the son of Rebel sympathizers earlier that evening. The Empire played the "guilt by association" game, and while it might've helped to keep a grip on the planet as a whole, it didn't keep folks like Seren Turadh from getting off-world and seeking out a pocket of the Rebel Alliance. If the Empire kept a stranglehold on Corellia, who was to say that it didn't keep a similar vice-like grip on the other planets that would afford it the same political and tactical advantages as did Corellia?

As long as the Empire stood, good would not flourish. The days of the Old Republic, where every planet and system was treated fairly, and the Jedi Order existed to keep the peace when the need arose—they needed to come about once more, and the Rebellion was going to make that happen.

Minister Deval regarded Seren with those cold, dark eyes of his once more, and cleared his throat. "I see," he said. "Miss Turadh, if you would be so kind as to relay what I have told you here, I would be much obliged. Your General Ruadh is a dear friend of mine, and it is only fair to him that I tell him what my vote will be, should the need arise."

"And what will your vote be, sir?"

Deval pressed his lips together; his smirk seemed to deepen. "Hibern, as she always has been, shall remain neutral, but ready to defend her interests."

Seren nodded. "I'll let General Ruadh know, sir."

"Godspeed, Miss Turadh, Miss Faodail."


	6. Requesting Aid

Seren delivered Minister Deval's statement to General Ruadh as soon as she and Becca returned to the Ælba base.

The general pressed his lips together in a tight line, and for a minute or so, silence stood between the two rebels. Finally, the general spoke.

"Thank you, Turadh," he said, making note of something on his datapad. "You are dismissed."

"Good night, sir," Seren said, acknowledging his orders with a polite nod.

She could feel the hours catching up with her. It was almost two in the morning, and Seren had the feeling that she would simply fall asleep without changing out of her clothes. She wasn't unaccustomed to such things, though it was admittedly nice at times, to sleep in soft, loose pajamas, especially after a long trip.

"Good night Turadh," the general replied, returning the nod. "Now go rest. I might have need of you in the morning, and I'd like you to have some sleep behind you."

* * *

General Ruadh waited until Turadh left to release the sigh he'd been holding in since the girl delivered Minister Deval's message.

 _What else did you expect him to say?_ The general thought as he turned the Minister of Hibern's words over in his mind.

Minister Deval was a good ten years older than Ruadh, and had served as Senator for Hibern in the early days of the Galactic Empire, before the Selts system quietly withdrew. He had kept the Empire from demolishing the Selts system through clever politics and promises of neutrality and isolation. As a result, the Empire left the Selts system alone—forgot about it completely, according to certain sources.

It was clear that Deval wished to keep the Selts system out of the Empire's databases, which was why he would be calling for a vote of the Selts Parliament on the subject of system-wide neutrality.

Ruadh didn't know when this meeting would be called, but he knew for sure that Deval would vote for system-wide neutrality when it did.

There was no telling what system-wide neutrality would mean for the rebels who had established a base on Ælba, as well as the smaller sectors on the other planets in the system. At worse, it meant they would have to leave the system entirely, he knew that much, and hoped it wouldn't come to that. At best, a vote for system-wide neutrality would cease what little aid the Selts system gave the Alliance in terms of guns and ships and speedercraft, which wouldn't set the Alliance back too far, if they were careful.

Ruadh was uncertain of how the other planets in the system would vote when the time came. Cymbri and Ellan were perhaps the most likely to vote in favor of aiding the Alliance more openly, while the decisions of Ælba and Airlan were less certain. Of course, all of the systems would give into Minister Deval's clever politics, and then the vote would be all in favor of system-wide neutrality on uncertain terms.

Something needed to be done, but the general wasn't sure what.

His father might have been a senator, but Ruadh had no skill with politics such as these, and even if he did, he was no match for Minister Deval.

"Visk, please patch me through to Mon Mothma," General Ruadh told the Rodian who was in charge of communications at the moment.

Visk nodded and did as the general asked.

"What is it, General?" asked the hologram miniature of the Rebellion's commander, a regal human female with pronounced cheekbones and short auburn hair.

"Pardon me for disturbing you, madam, but a situation has arisen in my system of command, and I need your advice on how to proceed."

"Then do," Mon Mothma said in her usual brisk manner. "How secure is the channel?"

"Secure, madam," he replied, after Visk assured him that yes, the channel was very secure, because it was one of the "ghost channels," but that was hardly important anyways "The Selts Parliament will be holding a vote to determine the status of their system as far as neutrality is concerned."

"And you want my advice on how to proceed."

"If you would be so kind, it would be appreciated."

"It is your sector, General, and it is therefore your choice what you chose to do about it. Tell me, what do you think is the most crucial part of this vote?"

It was like he was a child again, listening to his father mentoring up-and-coming representatives from this or that province, or discussing politics with his children. On the occasions when he had met Mon Mothma (thrice during his younger years), he had found that the Senator spoke the same way with his father, who often asked her for advice when Ruadh's mother was seeing to her own obligations.

"That our people have a say in the terms of neutrality," he told her, expecting her to praise his quick, confident answer.

Instead, she pressed her lips together. "If we can get the Selts system on our side, we have a chance of winning this war," said she. "It would be a step towards winning the support of the mid-Rim, which will be a more difficult battle than the Outer Rim has been, and it will benefit the cause if we can."

"Hibern will always be neutral," General Ruadh said. "There's no changing that, not as long as Minister Deval is in power."

"That's a problem easily solved," Mon Mothma said, "but assassination and usurpation is not a value of our movement…unfortunately. If anyone knew I had allowed for the execution of a political leader, simply on grounds such as this, our cause would be lost."

"Indeed."

"I will see what can be done, General," the Rebel commander told him. "I cannot promise a diplomatic team, and you might as well prepare your own, but know that something will be done."

"Thank you, madam."

"You are most welcome, General." Her holographic form turned as if to leave, but she paused. "Oh, and General."

"Yes madam?"

"You'll be pleased to know that there's a spot on Rouge Squadron, if you would like to put forth your candidate."

"Just one spot?"

"Don't play that with me General. It was a lot of trouble to convince Antilles that your candidate was actually good. I hope what you say about her is true, or it could cost us all."

General Ruadh only nodded. "She is, madam, I assure you. I'll put her through her paces, test if she's ready, and report to you."

"You doubt her, General Ruadh?"

"I have full confidence in her, madam. She just needs some in herself, that's all."

"Very well. I'll relay this to Antilles and the rest of Rouge Squadron, and we'll be in touch."

"Thank you."

The communication ended.


End file.
